


you tear me down

by wintervoice



Series: we'll be a fine line [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Jealous!Ben, M/M, and also, prince!ben, something close to a bodyguard au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22298917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintervoice/pseuds/wintervoice
Summary: “Ben,” the damning familiarity of his name on Poe’s lips caused embarrassment to color Ben’s cheeks, even after he successfully managed to slink past Poe and continue his furious trek to his room. He should have known his temper tantrum would not go without a reasonable explanation. “Tell me what’s wrong.”Ben’s eyes widened in faux innocence and he smiled again, this time saccharine-sweet, though there was a fair bit of venom just below the surface. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”Otherwise known as a Bodyguard AU
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: we'll be a fine line [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724296
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	you tear me down

It was not odd to find the Prince of Alderaan sulking at a party. In fact, those that knew him knew he was likely to spend a gathering glowering from some dimly lit corner, a glass of untouched wine in his hand, waving off everyone that dared approach, but tonight seemed to find him especially finicky. He was imperious, cold and aloof, and gave off an air of power that made most uncomfortable. The present company gave him a wide berth and could not see the way his fingers held the glass a little too tightly or the way his jaw ticked.

His sour mood had one source: his personal guard and the young delegate that had approached him forty-five minutes ago. He was Hynestian. His name was...Stavros, perhaps? Ben didn’t know, nor did he care to learn, not when the two men were chatting amicably and Poe was laughing. 

It should come as no surprise. Poe was special, and not because of a long, sprawling family tree made up of royalty and Force users. People saw Poe because he was bright and pulsing with life. They saw his dark hair, his square jaw, his resilience and his passion, which could hardly be subdued even if he was no longer serving the Republic, and they were drawn to him like moths to a flame. 

The only people that saw Ben were the ones forced to look to him as someone of royal stature and even then, they preferred to look away to avoid his ire. 

Ben knew better than to waste his energy on jealousy. Because Ben was not a fool, even if his volatile mood swings made him irritable and cold, and while the rest of the galaxy may have had eyes for people like Poe, Poe only had eyes for Ben. 

Even if he was laughing with the Hynestien. 

The glass in Ben’s hand was under threat of shattering. His black temper churned into an oncoming storm of his own making. He _was_ trying to be cordial and sensible, per his mother’s very insistent request of _Please, Ben. Make a good impression_ and sensible people would try to meander among the crowd, make small talk, and focus on something other than the curl of bitterness that was slowly consuming his heart. 

But Ben was not cordial or sensible and he couldn’t insist they all leave Poe alone. He couldn’t —

“I’m tired.” He announced suddenly, finally downing the wine in one gulp. “Walk me to my rooms.”

He meant for the statement to leave his lips as a question. It sounded far more like a demand. Poe snapped to attention, though his expression was muddled with a fair bit of confusion. It wasn’t even 10 o’clock and he didn’t often take such a tone with Poe. Still, he was ever the faithful bodyguard and complied easily, falling into step just behind Ben as he strode out of the ornate hall. 

He successfully earned the ire of almost every courtier, including his mother, who expected a far more socializing, but casting a glance over his shoulder revealed the disappointment of the small crowd that had gathered around Poe, making it more than worth his while. His lips curled into a very self-satisfied smirk, a sight rarely seen as he fought to maintain a perfect facade of bored indifference.

The grin disappeared as soon as they rounded a corner and Poe cast a knowing, sidelong glance. 

“You don’t have to throw a fit to get my attention.” He turned to stride backward, armed with stubborn confidence, and tried to catch his gaze. 

Ben might have guffawed had he been the type. Instead, he kept his eyes ruefully trained to the floor. “I do not throw fits.”

“Of course not,” Poe fell easily into the same routine of companionable teasing as he always did once they were alone. It was like they were kids again, squabbling in the belly of his mother’s ship, Shara in the cockpit, traveling from one star system to another on journeys of great diplomatic importance. “And what will the partygoers say once they realize you ordered me to leave with you?”

“That you’re doing your job.”

Both dark brows ticked upward in a show of what mock surprise. Poe can’t exactly argue: Leia had hired him right at the end of his service to the navy, still very fond of the Dameron family and the dutiful service of Shara Bey, and Poe had served as both guard and personal pilot ever since to her son ever since. 

  
“Unless you’d prefer to go back to your gaggle of admirers.” Ben could hear the ring of pettiness in his voice but couldn’t stop it. An uncomfortable knot twisted in his middle. “They seemed to hold your attention without a fit.”

Poe stopped in the middle of the hall so suddenly that Ben almost collided with his chest. It earned another huff and another glower, especially when he met Ben step for step as he tried to walk around him. Ben was contemplating shoving him out of the way when Poe finally spoke again. 

“Ben,” the damning familiarity of his name on Poe’s lips caused embarrassment to color Ben’s cheeks, even after he successfully managed to slink past Poe and continue his furious trek to his room. He should have known his temper tantrum would not go without a reasonable explanation. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Ben’s eyes widened in faux innocence and he smiled again, this time saccharine-sweet, though there was a fair bit of venom just below the surface. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It was not the way he wished to behave, but he had been playing the part of the hapless prince for far too many years to admit to any truth behind Poe’s claims. He was not prepared to confess that a part of him always worried that he would be tempted by the clever tricks of courtiers who sought to use Ben for their own gain, securing him in a marriage that would be for their benefit, to whichever girl with a wealthy family name could bring the most prosperity to Alderaan. 

His mother would never agree to such a thing as she’d married a cocky pilot of her own and Han was a (reformed) smuggler to boot, but plenty of Alderaanians still sought to restore their legacy to the galaxy. If they needed to use Ben to do so, they would. 

That little green monster had its claws dug so deep that all Ben could think about was his obvious shortcomings. He wasn’t...he wasn’t ugly, necessarily, but he’d been called an ipaki more times than he could count on both hands when he was a child. He was moody and withdrawn on a good day. The fact that Poe was the opposite of these things was a thorn in his side that had long since festered into an open wound, because surely it was only a matter of time before he realized he’d be better off without Ben. 

Ben’s pushed open the doors to his quarters and strode inside. Poe followed instinctively, more than familiar with these antics of Ben’s, just as Ben knew Poe’s first instinct was to defend himself.

“Will you — kriff!” Poe removed his standard issue jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair while Ben disappeared into the private bedroom, kicking the door closed in Poe’s face. Ben smiled a little at the obvious frustration that raged only a few feet away. Poe was not one to abide in Ben’s struggle for dominance but there was little he could do about it from the other side of the ornately carved wood. The handle jiggled. “Let me in.” 

“No,” Ben shucked his own clothing, the heavy, Organa blue robes suddenly stifling, and stripped down to trousers and tunic. He was adjusting the shirt back over his midriff when the door swung open. 

Poe stood there, his hand hovering over the keypad near the door jam. “I programmed your security codes, laserbrain.”

He suddenly felt very exposed. The high points of his cheeks burned red as he tugged the shirt the rest of the way down over his torso. 

Poe was but a man, so his gaze lingered and he had to shake of his head to focus his attention back on the matter at hand. “Ben,” he started slowly, “are you jealous?”

Ben almost choked on his outrage. “No.”

A smile toyed at the edges of Poe’s lips. He obviously found this situation very amusing now that he had figured out the truth of it, and that was a concept Ben couldn’t quite stomach. His righteous indignation should not be amusing. He was a prince, after all. 

Poe took a step forward, his eyes glittering, but Ben could not tell if it was mirth or annoyance. A bit of both, perhaps. 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Ben started. Poe took another step and Ben responded with a step backward. He didn’t dare look over his shoulder, but he sensed the bed wasn’t far from the backs of his legs now. Soon there would be nowhere to retreat. “But if you think — ”

He might have rallied further, always prepared to argue to the death out of hot-headed stubbornness he’d inherited from his mother, but then Poe crossed the distance between them and suddenly Ben’s back was pressed against his bed and Poe was straddling his lap. A calloused hand came up to cover his mouth. Ben furrowed his brow and peered up at him, a small, strangled noise at the back of his throat from the sudden, unexpected force with which he’d been pinned to the mattress.

He could have easily shoved Poe away, but there was something about his closeness that instantly eased all anger. Ben surrendered, arms limp at his sides, shoulders drooping a bit, and his cheeks felt hot enough to melt skin from bone, even when Poe dropped his hands. 

As if spurned by his sudden submission, Poe leaned down and pressed a sealing, heated kiss to Ben’s lips. He slowly let the connection dissolve, trailing his lips along the corner of Ben’s mouth and over his jaw, finally cupping his face in his hands and pressing one last kiss to his forehead. Ben had to tilt to meet him halfway, but he could hardly complain. Not when Poe was offering affection so easily and he, a withering vine that always felt trapped half in darkness, curled toward the warmth and brightness of physical intimacy. 

“Ben.” 

Poe’s voice was soft but chiding. His relief at the prospect of being forgiven with that first heady kiss was short-lived. Ben leaned into Poe’s touch as one hand slid behind his head and down his neck again. He rubbed at the spot near the base of Ben’s skull that always held tension, and Ben felt suddenly very, very stupid.   
  


He stared at one of the posts of the bed they shared, suddenly engrossed in way the wood curved toward the ceiling. 

“I don’t like the way people look at you,” he admitted lamely, and blew out air so hard his lower lip quivered. 

Poe smiled, but it wasn’t mean or at his expense. “I can’t help that people look at me.”

“I can,” Ben didn’t have the patience for rationality. He propped himself up on his elbows, feeling very much like a five year old, and mumbled, “I could exile everyone that looks at you.”

Poe hummed, leaning forward for another kiss, and Ben felt the skittering of his heartbeat and consequently the fluttering of his eyelids. He parted his lips in welcome, gripping the lapels of his shirt to pull him closer. It was rough and unbearably sweet, and stoked a fire deep within his middle as he deepened the kiss, drawing Poe’s body flush against his, one hand on the small of his back to keep him pressed close. The galaxy seemed to tilt until he could register nothing but the places where their skin touched. His fingers tangled in Poe’s hair just as a small, startled moan slipped free of his captured mouth. 

Poe did everything with a cocksure tenacity, and kissing was no different. Ben’s lungs were aflame and his chest heaving when Poe finally allowed a reprieve. He continued stealing soothing kisses, only breaking free of Ben’s strong grasp enough to rock backward and look down at him again. Poe’s fingers brushed along the expanse of his pale cheeks, thumb brushing along the freckle just to the left of his nose as he shivered up against him. 

Ben didn’t like the idea of any distance between them. He ducked his head to roll his tongue along the bare portion of Poe’s throat, teeth grazing the spot just below his ear before he bit down a moment later with the intent to leave a very obvious bruise.   
  


“I’m serious,” he breathed against Poe’s neck as he leaned back to admire the mark forming against golden skin in the exact shape of his mouth. It would be purple tomorrow and something about that pleased Ben. “I’m going to exile everyone until the entire planet is empty and it’s just the two of us.” 

There was no response to that, but Ben could sense Poe’s smirk. He wanted to bite at his mouth just to wipe it away. With one last unabashedly hungry glance, he pulled Poe back down for another kiss, dragging his teeth along his lower lip in such a way that the soft skin would still be tender in the morning.   
  


Poe was his, and he could certainly make sure everyone else knew, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> DON’T ask me about the specifics of this au, lol. I don’t know any specifics other than I wanted to write Prince!Ben. Will I write more in this universe because I love Prince!Ben? Maybe...maybe...


End file.
